Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death.

[P. 390.] A Girtonian Funeral. This parody of 'A Grammarian's Funeral' first appeared in the Journal of Education, May 1, 1886, from which it is here reprinted by the permission of the editor. The authorship is unknown.

INDEX OF AUTHORS PARODIED OR IMITATED

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

PAGE
A Clerk ther was of Cauntebrigge alsoSkeat[327]
A diagnosis of our hist'ry provesNewell[334]
A dingy donkey, formal and unchangedFrere[92]
Alack! 'tis melancholy theme to thinkHood[229]
And this reft house is that the which he builtColeridge[143]
Art thou beautiful, O my daughter, as the budding rose of AprilCalverley[298]
As manager of horses Mr. Merryman isH. Smith[76]
As o'er the hill we roam'd at willCalverley[296]
As sea-foam blown of the winds, as blossom of brine that is driftedBunner[365]
A strange vibration from the cottage windowBayard Taylor[284]
A sweet, acidulous, down-reaching thrillBayard Taylor[274]
At home alone, O Nomades Bunner[368]
Away, fond dupes! who, smit with sacred loreH. Smith[54]
Back in the years when Phlagstaff, the Dane, was monarchNewell[334]
Balmy Zephyrs, lightly flittingH. Smith[29]
Beautiful Soup, so rich and greenDodgson[322]
Behold the flag! Is it not a flagNewell[335]
Birthdays? Yes, in a general wayStephen[376]
Brown o' San JuanBret Harte[367]
By myself walkingLamb[153]
Cabbages! bright green cabbagesThackeray[242]
Can there be a moon in heaven to-nightHogg[120]
Choose judiciously thy friends; for to discard them is undesirableCalverley[299]
Come, give us more Livings and RectorsMoore[155]
Come hither, my heart's darlingAytoun[254]
Come, little Drummer Boy, lay down your knapsack hereCanning and Frere[93]
Comrades, you may pass the rosy. With permission of the chairMartin[258]
Dear Jack, this white mug that with Guinness I fill,Thackeray[245]
Fare-tinted cheeks, clear eyelids drawnBayard Taylor[278]
Farewell, farewell, to my mother's own daughterHood[241]
Fhairshon swore a feudAytoun[250]
Fill me once more the foaming pewter upAytoun[252]
Fine merry franionsLamb[151]
Fish have their times to biteUnknown[387]
For one long term, or e'er her trial cameCanning and Frere[93]
From his shoulder HiawathaDodgson[310]
From the depth of the dreamy decline of the dawnSwinburne[340]
George Barnwell stood at the shop-doorJ. Smith[73]
Getting his pictures, like his supper, cheapRossetti[290]
Go, boy, and thy good mistress tellJ. Smith[70]
Hail, glorious edifice, stupendous workH. Smith[1]
Hang thee, vile North-EasterUnknown[388]
He is to weet a melancholy carleKeats[216]
He lived amidst th' untrodden waysH. Coleridge[218]
He must be holpen; yet how help shall IBayard Taylor[280]
Hence, loath'd vulgarityTwiss[167]
Here, where old Nankin glittersLang[355]
Home! at the word, what blissful visions riseBunner[369]
How doth the little crocodileDodgson[308]
How troublesome is dayPeacock[160]
I am a blessed GlendoveerJ. Smith[21]
I am tenant of nine feet by fourTwiss[171]
I am two brothers with one faceRossetti[290]
I, Angelo, obese, black-garmentedBayard Taylor[276]
I count it true which sages teachT. Hood, jun.[324]
If ever chance or choice thy footsteps leadHogg[110]
If life were never bitterCollins[286]
If the wild bowler thinks he bowls,Lang[355]
I have found out a gift for my fairBret Harte[342]
I loiter down by thorp and townCalverley[297]
I marvelled why a simple childLeigh[329]
I'm a shrimp! I'm a shrimp, of diminutive sizeBrough[289]
In a bowl to sea went wise men threePeacock[157]
In moss-prankt dells which the sunbeams flatterCalverley[304]
In those old days which poets say were goldenCalverley[293]
In vale of Thirlemere, once on a timeHogg[123]
It is an auncient WaggonereMaginn[208]
It is the thirty-first of MarchReynolds[219]
It was many and many a year agoMurray[384]
I've stood in Margate, on a bridge of sizeBarham[176]
I was a timid little antelopeThackeray[245]
I would I were that portly gentlemanSouthey[145]
King Arthur, growing very tired indeedCollins[287]
Ladies and Gentlemen, As it is now the universally admittedJ. Smith[61]
Lady Clara Vere de VereT. Hood, jun.[324]
Lazy-bones, Lazy-bones, wake up, and peepLamb[154]
Let us begin and portion out these sweetsUnknown[390]
Little Cupid one day on a sunbeam was floatingPeacock[163]
Long by the willow-treesThackeray[243]
Look in my face. My name is Used-to-wasTraill[352]
Love spake to me and saidLang[353]
Lo! where the gaily vestur'd throngFanshawe[87]
Maud Muller, all that summer dayBret Harte[343]
Mine is a house at Notting HillUnknown[386]
More luck to honest povertyBrooks[256]
Most thinking People, When persons address an audienceJ. Smith[15]
Mr. Jack, your address, says the Prompter to meJ. Smith[52]
My brother Jack was nine in MayJ. Smith[4]
My native land, thy Puritanic stockNewell[334]
My palate is parched with Pierian thirstH. Smith[46]
My pensive Public, wherefore look you sadJ. Smith[49]
My spirit, in the doorway's pauseSwinburne[338]
Needy Knife-grinder! whither are you goingCanning and Frere[95]
Not a sous had he got,—not a guinea or noteBarham[176]
Object belov'd! when day to eve gives placeBradley[272]
O cool in the summer is saladCollins[286]
Oh! be the day accurst that gave me birthSouthey[149]
O heard ye never of Wat o' the CleuchHogg[109]
Oh no! we'll never mention himBarham[178]
O! I do love thee, meek Simplicity!Coleridge[142]
Once upon an evening weary, shortly after Lord DundrearyLeigh[330]
One hue of our flag is takenNewell[333]
Our parodies are ended. These our authorsTwiss[167]
O why should our dull retrospective addressesH. Smith[19]
Pensive at eve on the hard world I mus'dColeridge[142]
Peter Bells, one, two and threeShelley[179]
Pure water it plays a good part inHood[239]
Put case I circumvent and kill him: goodTraill[348]
Rash Painter! canst thou give the ORB OF DAYSouthey[144]
Read not Milton, for he is dry; nor Shakespeare, for he wrote of common lifeCalverley[300]
Read, read, Woodstock and WaverleyGilfillan[228]
Robert Pollok, A.M.! this work of yoursFrere[92]
Said a poet to a woodlouse—'Thou art certainly my brother'Swinburne[336]
St. Stephen's is a stageTwiss[166]
Sated with home, of wife, of children tiredJ. and H. Smith[9]
Scarlet spaces of sand and oceanBayard Taylor[277]
See where the K., in sturdy self-relianceStephen[378]
She held a Cup and Ball of ivory whiteSouthey[144]
Sir Ralph he is hardy and mickle of mightLang[356]
Sir, To the gewgaw fetters of rhymeJ. Smith[15]
Sobriety, cease to be soberH. Smith[42]
Soft little beasts, how pleasantly ye lieBrooks[256]
So in the village inn the poet dweltMurray[383]
Some have denied a soul! THEY NEVER LOVEDSouthey[145]
—So the stately bust abodeTaylor[266]
Source immaterial of material naughtNewell[333]
Stay your rude steps, or e'er your feet invadeFrere, Canning, and Ellis[97]
Strahan, Tonson, Lintot of the timesByron[173]
Strange beauty, eight-limbed and eight-handedHilton[363]
Study first Propriety: for she is indeed the PolestarCalverley[298]
Survey this shield, all bossy brightH. Smith[32]
That very time I saw, (but thou could'st not,)Cary[271]
That which was organized by the moral abilityH. Smith[38]
The auld wife sat at her ivied doorCalverley[306]
The autumn upon us was rushingT. Hood, jun.[323]
The burden of hard hitting: slog awayLang[354]
The chapel bell, with hollow mournful soundEllis[81]
The clear cool note of the cuckoo which has ousted the legitimate nest-holderStephen[377]
The comb between whose ivory teeth she strainsSouthey[148]
The day is done, and darknessCary[270]
The Gothic looks solemnKeats[217]
The last lamp of the alleyMaginn[214]
The little brown squirrel hops in the cornNewell[335]
The mighty spirit, and its power which stainsCrabbe[86]
The Pacha sat in his divanMaginn[214]
The rain had fallen, the Poet aroseMurray[382]
The rain was raining cheerfullyHilton[358]
There, pay it, James! 'tis cheaply earnedTraill[347]
There is a fever of the spiritPeacock[164]
There is a river clear and fairFanshawe[89]
There wase ane katt, and ane gude greye kattHogg[129]
The Scotts, Kerrs, and Murrays, and Deloraines allPeacock[156]
The skies they were ashen and soberBret Harte[344]
The sun sinks softly to his evening postNewell[333]
Those Evening Bells, those Evening BellsHood[241]
Thou who, when fears attackCalverley[292]
'Tis mine! what accents can my joy declareSouthey[146]
'Tis sweet to view, from half-past five to sixJ. Smith[66]
'Tis the voice of the lobsterDodgson[308]
'Twas not the brown of chestnut boughsBayard Taylor[275]
Twinkle, twinkle, little batDodgson[308]
Two swains or clowns—but call them swainsHood[237]
Two voices are there: one is of the deepStephen[376]
Untrue to my Ulric I never could beThackeray[248]
Waitress, with eyes so marvellous blackCollins[287]
Wake! for the Ruddy Ball has taken flightThompson[379]
Was it not lovely to beholdHogg[118]
Wearisome Sonnetteer, feeble and querulousCanning and Frere[94]
We met—'twas in a mob—and I thought he had done meHood[240]
We seek to know, and knowing, seekBradley[273]
What stately vision mocks my waking senseH. Smith[7]
Whene'er with haggard eyes I viewCanning and Ellis[107]
When energizing objects men pursueByron[174]
When he whispers, 'O Miss Bailey!'Locker-Lampson[268]
When he who adores thee has left but the dregsMaginn[213]
When lovely woman wants a favourCary[271]
Where'er there's a thistle to feed a linnetT. Hood, jun.[325]
Where the MoosatockmagunticBayard Taylor[282]
Which I wish to remarkHilton[360]
Who has e'er been at Drury must needs know the StrangerJ. Smith[72]
Whoso answers my questionsBayard Taylor[281]
With hands tight clenched through matted hairDodgson[314]
Why do you wear your hair like a manTraill[350]
Ye bigot spires, ye Tory towersStephen[374]
Ye kite-flyers of ScotlandPeacock[162]
Ye Sylphs, who banquet on my Delia's blushSouthey[147]
Yonder to the kiosk, beside the creekThackeray[246]
'You are old, Father William,' the young man saidDodgson[309]
You over there, young man, with the guide-bookBunner[370]
Your Fanny was never false-heartedThackeray[247]
You see this pebble-stone? It's a thing I boughtCalverley[301]
You've all heard of Larry O'TooleThackeray[242]
Zuleikah! The young Agas in the bazaarThackeray[246]

BILLING AND SONS, LIMITED, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD.

FOOTNOTES: